


wanting was enough (for me it was enough)

by dwoht



Series: bly manor [2]
Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: F/F, canon divergent compliant ending LOL it's both, trynna give these fools a happy ending okayyy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwoht/pseuds/dwoht
Summary: in dreams i meet you in warm conversation /and time is taking its sweet time erasing you /or,Jamie learns to live without.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Series: bly manor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980349
Comments: 9
Kudos: 125





	wanting was enough (for me it was enough)

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this at 1 am and did not edit it. i apologize in advance for sloppiness. i just have lots of feelings :(

Jamie kicks and screams and reaches out, as if mere wanting will cause Dani to wake. But the water is cold and cruel, and eventually her muscles tire, and she rises alone to the surface of the lake.

Lungs heaving, she drags herself along the muddy banks to shore. Her head throbs, and her eyes sting. Her eyes well up until they can’t hold anymore, and unshed tears spill out onto her cheeks. The pajamas clinging to her skin, the same ones she wore when they went to bed the night before, and the fabric is weighted down with water the way her heart is weighted down with the memory of how it felt to crawl into bed next to Dani. 

And she’s cold. God, she’s so cold. It’s all she can think about. Jamie doesn’t know if she’ll ever be warm again.

Then she thinks about Dani, lying on the bottom of the lake, limbs stiff and almost frozen, and she doesn’t know if she deserves to.

Her fingers feel thick and stubborn as they travel down her left hand to the ring on her finger. To think Dani, who loved her, and loved their life, would just leave her is almost impossible to reason with. But at the same time, what was that they’d said? About love and possession?

“I saw how he twisted himself into her,” Jamie had said. Her lips had curled over the words like a curse. “Burrowed in deep. I know why so many people mix up love and possession, but guess what that means? He didn’t just trap her, he trapped himself.”

It had been quiet for a minute, and then Dani said, “People do, don’t they? Mix up love and possession?”

“Yeah, they do,” Jamie said, eyeing the way Dani was lost in that far away look she got sometimes.

“I don’t think that should be possible,” Dani had said, with conviction almost enough to be aggressive. “I mean, they’re opposites, really, love and ownership.”

Opposites.

_Take me_ , Jamie had said, screaming it so recklessly because she knew before the words left her mouth that Dani would not; Dani would never.

Even in death, her selflessness can’t help but spill out. It had always been one of the things Jamie admired most about her, and now it just makes her angry.

She sits there, fingers clawing into the mud, even though it just slips out of her grabs as soon as her fist closes. She debates just lying there out of spite until she dies, but her mind takes her back to what she had said in response — _He didn’t just trap her, he trapped himself_.

Dani wants her to live. So she figures she must.

Her shaking arms pull her to a kneeling position, and then to her feet, which slip and slide in the mud as she drags herself to the dry shore. She must look like a sorry sight to anyone, and wonders how on Earth she’s going to get home like this.

She does, though, stripping off her clothes as soon as she’s in the front door, and immediately takes herself into the shower. The hot water practically burns her skin as it washes off caked mud and dried tears, but no amount of steaming water, soap, or scrubbing will be able to do away with the guilt that has settled into the deepest corner of her heart.

One phone call to Owen has her booked at his restaurant that evening, because he always finds a way to make room for her and Dani whenever they want to come eat, but he must hear the croak in her throat or the thickness of her words because he adds, “Will I be dining with you?”

“Please,” is all Jamie can muster out.

She doesn’t speak when she arrives, but the fact that she’s alone must say enough because he just gives her a quick hug, and sits himself across from her.

“I suppose you knew this was coming,” he says quietly. Jamie nods. “I must say, I don’t really know exactly what it is that happened.”

“I don’t really, either,” Jamie mumbles. “I mean, Dani was always better at explaining it than I was. Do you remember that night at Bly? That last night?” He nods. “Dani saved Flora from being taken into the lake by the… demon. The Lady in the Lake, Dani called her. And in doing so, I guess she invited that spirit into her.”

“It’s you. It’s me. It’s —“ 

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “And we were able to hold her off, I guess, but love and possession…”

“Sorry?” Owen asks.

Jamie shakes her head. “Nothing. I guess the Lady in the Lake just wanted Dani. And now she has her.”

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Owen says. She just shrugs, playing with the tablecloth absentmindedly, but when he adds, “Really, I am,” she remembers all that happened between him and Hannah. Or, rather, all that didn’t.

“I wish Flora and Miles could know to mourn her,” Jamie says. Then she frowns. “Although, s’pose it’s better they don’t.”

“Why burden them with that?” Owen agrees.

“It _is_ a burden. To love someone so wholeheartedly, I mean,” Jamie says. _That’s why I never planned on doing it,_ she thinks. “To love someone is to lose someone, eventually.”

“To truly love someone is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them,” Owen says somberly.

“Loving her wasn’t work,” Jamie says immediately, eyebrows furrowing.

“I know,” Owen says. A hand lays on hers placatingly. “It’s just a saying.”

“Well, who said it?” Jamie says.

“I did?” Owen grins at her. Jamie rolls her eyes, but can’t fight the wry smile forming in her lips. “Ah, and there’s a smile out of you.”

“Dani was — I mean, there’ll never be another, you know,” she says.

“Another Dani?” Owen asks.

“Another person for me,” Jamie says. “I don’t really like people that much, and you know I don’t connect well. Or whatever. I mean, how long did it take you and I to have a proper conversation?”

“Due to no fault of my own,” Owen reminds her, looking particularly affronted.

Jamie cracks another smile. “Well, anyway. I reckon I’ve had you, Dani, and Hannah put up with me, and I’m not about to test my luck here. It isn’t _people_ that I love, it was just her.” Owen doesn’t say anything. “She was my wife,” Jamie says. Her jaw clenches as she absentmindedly begins playing with the ring on her finger, and she blinks an angry well of tears away furiously. “She was my _wife_."

“I know,” Owen says gently. He closes his eyes, breathing in the memory of a love he once lost, as he repeats, “I know.”

That evening, she falls into a bed that is far too empty for just her. Absentmindedly, she rolls over to the left, expecting to feel the warmth of Dani’s arms wrapping around her. Instead, she just spreads her fingers over cold stillness.

Better get used to it, she thinks bitterly. She sorely hopes it she does, because she barely gets any sleep that night. All she can manage to do is toss and turns until the early morning light begins to shine, and only then does she manage to drift off into a restless unconsciousness.

She wakes at her usual time, meaning she probably only gets a couple hours of sleep at most. Lifting her head feels almost impossible, but she does, examining a room that looks unremarkable, considering what has happened in the last couple of days.  Though her limbs protest with stiffness likely due to the hour she spent soaking in an icy lake, and her heart protests with the loss of the only other half she will ever know, she rises.

The morning is sunny, almost too cheery to feel appropriate. But it’s also warm enough that she can open the window, so she does, hoping the breeze will breathe some life into the house.

Trying to get back to what was once a morning routine, Jamie trudges into the bathroom. Her hand shakes over her toothbrush at the sight of Dani’s right next to it, as if nothing has changed, and her gaze falters over the two tubes of toothpaste.

She rolls her eyes at the memory, recalling distinctly how ridiculous it was that Dani thought they needed different toothpastes. “Disgusting,” she had said, and something along the lines of, “This is proof that who you love isn’t a choice” when Jamie had revealed she prefers to brush her teeth with flavorless toothpaste.

“It isn’t that bad,” she mumbles, squeezing a bit onto her brush. “Just because you’re dead doesn’t make you right.”

Then she winces. Perhaps a bit too soon for dead jokes.

The paintings on the wall catch her eye as they always do when she walks through the hallway connecting the bathroom to the kitchen.

There’s a massive painting they’d chosen together, which was notable in its own right because Jamie couldn’t believe she was even in a position to choose a painting for her house that she shared with another human being. There’s a smaller canvas with something symbolizing something else that Jamie never really understood, but Dani liked to look at each night before bed.

And in the third glass frame is a moon flower, dried, pressed, and preserved between the two panes of glass so it will never spoil.

“I want it to bloom year round,” Dani had said. Her lips quirked. “Like our love does.”

“You sap,” Jamie had teased, but her heart had practically exploded anyhow. Dani had pulled her into a kiss, and then, into her lips Jamie had mumbled, “Now seems like a good time to confess I planned on doing the same thing.”

“The flower thing?” Dani had asked.

Jamie nodded. “For your birthday.”

“ _You’re_ the sap,” Dani accused, kissing her again. Jamie had meant to fight back and start listing all the romantic shit Dani had done over the years, but then she’d gotten lost in the kiss and the touch of her, like always.

Pulling away, breathless and lips tingling, her head was hazy as she smiled and said, “Hm. Maybe I am.”

The kitchen itself hasn’t changed at all, because why would it?

A box of Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes still sits on the kitchen table. The cereal is much too sugary for Jamie’s liking, and very American, but Dani liked it, so she always made sure to pick up a box for the house when she went grocery shopping.

Their two mugs are drying in the dish rack, custom ones to match Jamie had gotten them for Christmas one year. Dani never did seem to master tea, though Jamie got good at pretending, but she always figured that was fair because Jamie never found taste for coffee.

Her eyes travel to the counter, where the bag of whole beans is slumped against the kettle. Despite the fact that Jamie never actually liked to _drink_ coffee, it was soon discovered in their relationship that she had a better hand for brewing it than Dani.

So, the morning routine eventually evolved into designated roles: Jamie would make their drinks, Dani would make their food, and then they would share breakfast together at the table or on the front porch, weather permitting. That was their rule — even if they didn’t have time for anything else together that day, they would have breakfast together.

Jamie’s shoulders slump under the pressure of all the memories they shared. The routine they fell into was comforting once, but the abrupt change now just makes her heart hurt.

Everything that Dani is — no, was — flows through the house they made into their home. The familiarity is stifling, and it chokes her up and spits her out as she forces a piece of toast down her throat.  Eventually even just sitting there is too much, so she finds what respite she can back in the bedroom.

As it turns out, not a lot. If anything, it might be worse than the living area.

Jamie comes to learn that a home isn’t a place, it’s a person. And this house is now lacking a lot of Dani, and a lot of warmth.

The closet is stuffed to the brim, each other’s shirts and pants scattered amongst each other because Jamie never could be bothered to be strict with herself and keep her own clothes to one side.  Her gaze flickers down to the two pairs of identical boots on the shoe rack, because even though they ended up being the exact same shoe size, Jamie thought the idea of sharing shoes was gross, and made Dani get her own.

The call of the work day is relieving, but as she opens up shop, she finds that it might actually be the death of her when the first customer through the door greets her with, “Hi, Jamie. Where’s Dani this morning?”

She freezes. Her tongue feels thick in her mouth, but she manages to stumble through, “Uh, she’s feeling a bit ill this morning.”

“Ah,” the woman says, throwing her a smile. “I hope she feels better.” She pauses, tapping her finger on her chin. “Well, let me just get my usual arrangement today.”

“Having a visit with your father?” Jamie asks, recalling past conversations.

“Yep, he and the nurses always like the fresh flowers every day,” the woman says, beaming at her. “You two are the best.”

“Thanks,” Jamie says, throwing on as best a smile she can, even though all she wants to do is yell and scream. The woman leaves, and just that five minutes has left her exhausted. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbles at herself. “Get a grip, woman.”

This is why the shop worked as a duo; Jamie handled the flowers and the gardening and the growing, while Dani handled the customers.

Responding to questions about her own life, asking ones back as if she actually cares, joking and laughing and ‘relating to the clientele,’ as Dani would call it has never been her strong suit nor a responsibility she partook in often.

This becomes apparent throughout the entire day. Just a couple hours of fielding questions about Dani and killing time leaves her exhausted and practically snarling through the smile she bears as a customer waves and leaves, so she flips the sign to closed. Take a deep breath, she reminds herself.

Even the flower shop is full of memories. Not just in the customers or the flowers, but God, wasn’t it here that Jamie confessed she was in love with Dani?

The memories are everywhere Dani is not anymore, and it hurts.

So the shop closes. Temporarily, of course. Rather, that’s what she tells herself. But she deserves a break, right? If Dani wants to fight her on that, she can come out of the lake and tell her in person.

The days begin to drag on, hours spent lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, but at the same time, they fly by too fast for her to catch. Days turn to weeks turn to months, and she wonders if this is how Dani feels at the bottom of the lake.

The first thing Jamie notices about her new normal is how wholly unprepared she is to live in her own. Even when she tended at Bly Manor, she got practically two or three meals every day cooked by own. Now, her rudimentary cooking skills are brought to light as she burns pasta for a third time that week.

So she stops cooking, opting instead of ordering take-out every night or snacking throughout the day in makeshift meals. Owen comes by once a week, it seems, to bring her restaurant leftovers or to just try to get her to talk to another human being, if his incessant and probing questions are any indication. As the weeks pass, though he still drops off dinners on the doorstep, he stops forcing her to have a chat each time.

As Jamie swallows a bite of pot roast, she reminds herself to send Owen a bouquet when she’s done wallowing in her own self-pity.

She drags herself through the motions of washing up the dishes, which Dani was always shit at, because if the days have been bad, the nights are worse.

Night brings sleep, which bring nightmares. The visions seem to be pretty much every time she closes her eyes, awake or not, but sleep brings them to life.

There’s the reoccurring dream of watching Dani wade into the lake, but not being able to do anything about it. No amount of crying or screaming or begging even gets her to turn around, and her feet are cemented in the slick of the mud. All she can do is watch the woman she loves walk slowly to her death, and she wonders if it was really this peaceful in real life.

For Dani’s sake, she hopes so.

The other dream that seems to come by every couple weeks is the memory of going back to Bly to try and retrieve or even just see Dani one last time. Only, in this dream, Dani wakes and rises almost eerily when Jamie starts screaming at her.

Dani’s face is as cold as the current of the lake, and her voice shimmers with disgust when she says, _Leave me alone. I don’t want to be with you anymore._

_No_ , Jamie says, shaking her head. _No, Dani loves me. She loves me._

The au pair’s laugh is all too candid when she says, _Does she?_

One night, she prepares herself for yet another night of terror only to drift off into the first good dream she’s had in a long time.

It’s a random scene of her and Dani watching television together one evening, and it feels like a memory, but she knows they had so many nights together like that and can’t be sure.

The cup of tea in her hand feels so warm and so comfortingly real as she pads down the hall towards the bedroom, and her heart smiles at the sight of Dani lounging on the bed in matching pajamas. Dani is watching only God-knows-what random American show, but the book in her hand is soft and inviting when she grabs it from her bedside table and settles down.

The mattress hugs her just right and, relaxing into Dani’s shoulders with their legs slotted together like they were made for each other, she feels complete.

The feeling carries her through the morning, and her first thought upon blinking awake is how nice it feels to be truly rested for the first time in quite some mornings.

This newfound energy brings about the realization that she has neglected pretty much every part of her life for the past however long, and spends the day cleaning the house. She uses all-purpose cleaner on the bathtub, which Dani always told her not to do, but she can’t find where Dani left the bathtub powder she liked to use.

“Also, it literally says on the bottle here that it’s all-purpose. It can be used all places,” she mutters to herself.

Then she sweeps and mops, though she forgets to sweep first so she ends up having to sweep again when she’s done, but she figures the floors look alright when she steps back to admire them.

She ends the day with a meal that she actually cooks, recipe from Owen, and rolls her eyes at the notes in the margins telling her _under no circumstances are you to leave the stove right now. I mean it, Jamie, I can see you walking away_ or _remember that simmer on low does NOT mean boil on high!_

Jamie even manages to take a bath without having a panic attack, and if she spends a little too long staring into her reflection and hoping for Dani’s, she figures she’s allowed that one thing.

She sleeps well that night, and has another dream.

This one is starkly contrasted from the one from the night before. Instead of it being one of their many evenings together, this dream seems to take place in the morning. It feels so authentic that Jamie has to do a double-take and make sure she’s not _actually_ waking up, but she swallows thickly when her heart thuds to a realization that if Dani’s there, it can’t be real.

Still, it’s nice to wake up to her arms again, even if it only exists in her imagination. Dani's arms are strong and sturdy as they hold her close, and Jamie relishes the feeling of slowly easing herself awake surrounded by a kind of safety she never knew she wanted, nor knew she could have.

She looks slightly to her left, where her head is tucked under Dani’s chin, and listens to the slow, steady breathing. Her hand finds its way to Dani’s chest where she presses against the spot her heart should be, almost dozing off again to the beat of it against her palm.

But she wants to see Dani, for real, so she wakes her up the way she did pretty much every morning. Her left hand weaves its way between the fingers of Dani’s, and squeezes gently as she peppers kisses along her jawline.

Slowly, Dani’s breathing shifts and startles as she begins to wake up, and her smile is almost reflexive as her eyes flutter open to the sight of Jamie. _Good morning_ , she says, voice hoarse from sleep.

_Hi_ , Jamie says dumbly, wondering how her dreams are capturing this so realistically.

_Did you sleep well?_ Dani asks. Her eyebrows furrow with worry, and Jamie still wonders why Dani was always so worried about her when _she_ was the one with a lake demon living inside her.

_As I always do_ , Jamie assures her, pressing a kiss to her jaw. _And you?_

_As long as you’re here_ , Dani says, lips quirking into a smile. _Have a good day today, okay?_

_Okay_ , Jamie finds herself agreeing. The dream is over almost too quickly, and she finds herself _actually_ waking up. That can’t have been a full night, she thinks sourly, and the second thought is the remarkable observation that the bed does feel just a little bit warmer.

It’s stupid, she knows, for her entire outlook on life to change after a dream of all things, but Dani wishing her a good day reminds her why she’s even still here; Dani wanted her to. It can’t be in vain.

She also remembers the bit Dani told her about the Lady in the Lake being forgotten and fading into a faceless being that couldn’t speak or think or talk, and thought of having that happen to Dani is more than she can bear.  That day, she spends all her free time scribbling into a notebook. From the day they first met, to the last day, she writes down every single thing she can remember about Dani and their life together. She hopes it’s enough.

A week later, she opens the flower shop. After months of absence, she’s sure she’ll have to rebuild her customer base entirely, but a few flyers around town gets word around, and within a few days her regulars come pouring in like nothing has ever changed.

Her throat catches still, every time she makes her cup of tea in the morning without a cup of coffee to accompany it, and her hands flutter when she accidentally grabs two plates instead of one when laying the table for dinner, but she wonders if that’s just how it’s always going to be.

Every night, she draws a bath. Sometimes, she sits in it, still trying to warm the chill in her bones that has set in since her swim in the lake. Sometimes, she just kneels next to the tub, looking into her reflection and hoping for someone else’s.

Still, despite the bits she can’t seem to let go, life resumes much as it once was. Waking up becomes a little less jarring every day, she finally throws out Dani’s toothbrush she knows she held onto for a ridiculous amount of time, and she returns to work with much more enthusiasm than she thought she’d ever have again.

She muses over the actual eagerness she’d had to see a customer that morning, eyeing the woman moving from display to display.

Eventually, the customer settles over the cluster of Ready-to-Plant plants they have in the corner, and Jamie, for all she claims to hate talking to people, finds herself willingly going over. “A peony, eh?”

The customer turns, revealing the face of a young blonde. “I was thinking about it. Are they hard to take care of?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Jamie says. “Enough water is important, especially for them young plants. And sunlight, ‘course. And make sure to add some mulch in the cold months." She frowns. "Well, it might be some work, but worth it, I think, for the beauty you get.”

“Fair enough,” the woman says.

Jamie bounces on her toes and then blurts out, “That was my wife’s favorite flower.”

The woman’s eyebrows arch in surprise, but then her features settle out, and she smiles. “Right, I heard there were two of you here. Where is she?”

“Ah, she took ill, and — uh, well, she didn’t make it,” Jamie says. The words flow much easier than they did the last time she was faced with this question, and she hopes she hides the flash of trauma better. “I took some months off, but figured the best way to honor her memory was to continue what we built together. Or something like that. Fuck if I know.”

“I think that’s nice,” the woman says. Then she reaches out hesitantly, before detracting her hand if the way Jamie practically jumps away from her is any indication. “And I’m sorry for your loss. What was your wife’s name?”

“Dani,” Jamie says, realizing she hasn’t said it aloud in months probably. “Her name was Dani.” Her face lights up in a way she knows she’d totally make fun of herself for, but she can’t stop herself from adding, “She didn’t even love flowers that much, really, she just liked peonies a lot, and I reckon she loved me, too. Lucky I had her.” She chuckles. “I swear, sunshine used to follow that woman like it couldn’t live without her. Great for the plants. And me.” She flushes. “Sorry. I don’t usually go on about her or… anything.”

Jamie is astounded to find that talking about her feelings actually helps. She had planned on just holding them in until she died, but the release of that little bit she was carrying with her lightens her load just ever so slightly.

So she continues.

Whether it’s giving her own opinion about a bouquet arrangement to a customer, along with what she assumes Dani’s opinion would have been, or talking about the moonflower, or slipping in little bits and pieces of Dani and their life together, each customer interaction lightens the burden of memories, good and bad.

She wonders if this is another way to keep Dani alive. Not just in herself or her notebooks, but the lives of other people as well.

That evening, her dream is a little bit different.

She finds herself at Bly again, and she wonders if this is another nightmare, but for some reason it feels different. The air isn’t as cold, and the shiver isn’t as harsh as she stares at the eerily calm surface of the lake.

Even the water isn’t as striking as she wades in, kicking with more confidence than she had the first time now that she knows what she’ll find. Almost out of her control, she feels herself yelling, _It’s you. It’s me. Us_. Again, just like the first time.

Only, this dream has Dani almost shake awake, and push off from the ground towards her. Relief is almost paralyzing as Jamie's hands latch onto her, and claw almost too desperately. She hugs her tight and begins towing them towards the shore.

_Wait_ , Dani says.

_What? No, let’s get out of here_ , Jamie says breathlessly.

Dani shakes her head a little. _I can’t. You know that._

Jame’s eyebrows furrow. Isn’t this _her_ dream? She should get to control the outcome, she thinks. She plays along, though, mind tumbling as she says, _You didn’t have to leave._

_I did_ , though, Dani says. Jamie leans into the touch as she brushes back the wet curls that have stuck to her cheeks. _Because if I didn’t, she would have come for me. And I couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t take you too._

_I want to be taken_ , Jamie says immediately. The answer rolls off her tongue the way it’s rolled out of her mind nearly every day.

Dani presses a kiss to her lips, and the coldness of Dani’s lips sends a shiver up Jamie’s spine because oh, right. She’s still dead. Jamie revels in the kiss anyway, pleading and begging and saying everything she can’t with words. Her lips tremble, though she wishes they wouldn’t, and her heart breaks all over again when Dani says, _I know. And that’s the problem._

Jamie pulls back and hugs her close again, inhaling deeply. _Don’t leave me. Please._

_I would never._ Dani sounds so certain. _I’m always with you._

And then she wakes.

Well, that was a fuckin’ lie, she thinks sourly. Dream-Dani’s got some nerve.

The whole dream leaves her thoroughly confused, walking through the day like she’s in a daze with every step. It’s the first time she’s ever been to control her dream, but only part of it. She can’t choose what happens, just how she responds.

She also has no idea what on Earth Dani was trying to say, and though she reminds herself it was just a dream and not really indicative of anything, she spends far too long in front of the bathtub that evening, searching in the water for answers that, night after night, give her only herself.

Her dream that night is different. It’s not a memory, so she has no idea where it’s come from, but she finds herself waking up inside the dream. There’s a tightness around her throat, but no amount of clearing it eases the pressure. Blinking, she peers through the darkness of the evening to find Dani sitting on her hips and holding her by the neck.

_Oh, Poppins_ , she sighs. Even though she knows it’s not real, she tries to console Dream-Dani anyway.

_I just tried to kill you_ , she says.

_I know_ , Jamie says, offering a wry smile. She gently lifts Dani’s hands away, and tugs her slightly downwards. _C’mere_.

Though she always was the one cuddling up to Dani, she decides she likes holding her, as Dani eases into her grasp, and settles herself on Jamie’s chest. _You aren’t worried about what this means?_

_We knew this day was coming_ , Jamie shrugs. She presses a kiss to the top of Dani’s head. She doesn’t know what she’s saying, just that she needs to keep them talking. _We knew this wasn’t going to be forever. The… lady —_

_The Lady in the Lake_ , Dani interjects.

_Right, the Lady in the Lake_ , Jamie continues. _We’ve always known she’d be coming for us. For lack of a better word. I reckon it must be now._

_That doesn’t worry you?_ Dani repeats.

_Of course it does_ , she laughs. She sobers then, eyes locked with Dani as she tries to figure out what exactly the au pair is thinking. _But we’ll handle this. Together. Like we always do._

Apparently Dream-Dani is as stubborn as real Dani, because she doesn’t hear a word of it and just says, _I think I have to go back._

_Back?_ She knows what she means, but asks anyway.

_To Bly_ , Dani confirms.

_You know that’s not the answer_ , Jamie tries. Though, she then realizes she doesn’t know what _is_ the answer, and tries to kiss away Dani’s fears like she’s been able to do so many times before. Not this time, apparently.

_She’s coming here_ , Dani says, _and I can’t let that happen._

_You can’t leave_ , Jamie says again. It’s just a dream, God, it’s just a dream, but it feels so real and the chance to say what she would have said in real life takes over her like it’s the last chance she’ll ever get.

_Jamie, I —_

_No, Dani_. Her hands tremble as they make their way from the turn of Dani’s jaw to grasp at the bottom of her shirt, and then up to her hair and back to her shirt. She feels like she’s choking on nothing, but she manages to heave out, _Don’t leave me. Please, Dani. I’ve never asked you for anything before. I can’t do this without you. I can’t —_

Jamie jolts awake.

What the fuck was that? she demands at her conscience.

The next night, the same dream comes again, but this time, Dani’s words change. _We knew the Lady in the Lake would come back for us. For me._

_For us_ , Jamie agrees, a warning held in the word as she tries to remind Dani, yet again, that they’re in it together.

_I think we should be proactive_ , Dani says. Jamie just chuckles and arches one eyebrow. _What if we could find a way for us to be together… but separately._

_You’ve lost me, Poppins_ , Jamie says, still an easy smile on her lips. She wonders when Dream-Dani got so self-aware.

Dani kisses her then, lips warm and a welcome replacement for that horrible dream of kissing the cold, stiffness of her dead body. _I think I need to give her what she wants. The Lady in the Lake, that is. I need to go back._

_What?_ Jamie sits up. Dream-Dani is back on this bullshit again. _I don’t think so._

_What if I could promise we’d still be together?_ Dani asks. _Maybe not in the same way, but together still. Emotionally._

_I’d rather be together physically,_ Jamie says. It’s a joke, kind of, but also not, because Dani looks serious. She groans. _Dani, this is ridiculous. I’m not going to let you just return to your death._

_And I can’t let you be here when she comes for it anyway_ , Dani says. She reaches up to cup Jamie’s jaw, and she leans into her hand like it’s the last time she ever will. Which, it very well might be. _We don’t have a choice. Let me do this for you._

_You realize it is ridiculous for you to be asking for my… what, approval?_ Jamie says. _I don’t approve. I could never._ She pauses, then, because the conversation about love and possession just keeps coming back to her. Her own goddamn words coming back to bite her, and she realizes that if the roles were reversed, she would do the exact same thing. _But I understand it._

_You do?_ Dani can’t hide her surprise, and it’s almost comical. _I didn’t think it would be this easy._

_I would rather it be this way_ , Jamie admits. There’s a taste of bitterness when she adds, _You do what you want when you want it, and I can’t stop you. At least we get to say goodbye._

_Right_ , Dani says. If she looks guilty, it’s probably just Jamie’s imagination. She kisses the tips of Jamie’s fingers, letting her mouth wander to her palm, wrist, and up her arm. _We get to say goodbye._

It’s silent, for a bit, and then over the harmonizations of their breathing together, Jamie says, _I’m glad you didn’t just leave._ This might not be real, but damn if she’s going to miss a chance to chew Dani out for her poor choices. _I would follow you anywhere, and I would have followed you back. And I’m guessing I would have found you, and… I don’t think I could have survived that._

_You’re stronger than you think_ , Dani says, with something in her tone Jamie can’t place.

_So, what did you mean by together apart?_ Jamie asks. She laces their fingers together, relishing in the way their touch is so lifelike, and wishing she’d taken more opportunities when Dani was alive. Dani squeezes her hand.

_There’s a way for my… spirit, so to speak_ , Dani starts, _to stay with you. You wouldn’t necessarily know, but I would be there._

_That doesn’t seem fair for me_ , Jamie mumbles. _And what would this one-way relationship get me?_

_Dreams_ , Dani says. Jamie blinks, catching on something she feels is probably highly significant. Dreams. Dreams. Dreams. The fact that she can control what she does, but not anything else. The way it feels so real. The way she relives memories, but like they’re from someone else’s point of view. The chance that this is actually sort of... not just in her mind is too much for her to handle, but before she can say anything, Dani cuts off her train of thought. _Hypothetically, of course. This isn’t real._

Jamie’s stomach drops. Right, of course. She shrugs hesitantly. _It feels like it, though._

_I know_ , Dani whispers. _And I love you._

Then Jamie is waking, carefully and gently, completely unlike the sharp startle of the night before. The echo of the last three words hangs in the air, and she swears she feels the fading of two arms wrapped around her.

The day continues with not much fanfare, but the dream sticks with her. Because if she thinks about it, would Dani tell her if she was really seeing her in dreams? Jamie guesses not, because if it really _is_ Dani, she won’t be satisfied until she figures out a way to reunite them, and she figures Dani knows this.

On the other hand, the odds that Dani is actually visiting her in dreams is pretty ridiculous.

On the other _other_ hand, the whole lake monster thing is ridiculous too, so if she’s being fair, the dreams thing might not be totally crazy.

Hesitantly, she says, “Dani are you there?” A pause. Her cheeks heat up. “That was fuckin’ stupid,” she mutters. “Jesus, Jamie, you’re gonna lose ya mind.”

At the same time, and here she confesses she might actually be imagining things, but she swears she feels Dani with her again. Not so much as a second presence, but inside her. Breathing with her, moving with her.  And so she starts talking to her again. Never full on conversations, because _that_ would be a little too off her rocker for Jamie to reason with, but little comments here and there.

“You’d hate this,” she says, watching maybe the worst movie she’s ever seen play on television.

“I told you I’d find a way to not burn steak,” she says, proudly looking at the first strip she’s grilled on her own… ever. “‘It only took you ten years,’” she mocks, putting on a terrible American accent. “Yeah, well, better late than never,” she grumbles.

“I know you added this one to our list of books to read before we turn fifty,” Jamie says, flipping to the cover, “but it’s horrendous, and I don’t think I can finish it without offing myself. So, no-go. You have terrible taste, and I’m never taking a book recommendation from you again.”

The dreams return to peace again, memories here and there that stretch beyond reality more frequently than they don’t. Jamie enjoys them anyway, trying to be satisfied with this little piece of reality she still hasn’t decided on the authenticity of.

Years pass, quicker than she ever thought they would, and one day, when she’s looking into the bathtub, she marvels at how she’s aged. Her hair has more greys than brown, her face is lined with wrinkles from a lifetime of laughter and tears, and her hands shake more from sheer exhaustion when she moves to turn off the tap.

That night, she puts a hand out when Dani offers her hers to take before they go on a hike. _I don’t want to do this anymore._

_A hike?_ Dani asks.

Jamie shrugs. _This_.

Dani’s face falls. _I want this to be enough for you._

_I know_ , Jamie says. _And it has been. But I’m so tired. I don’t want to die, necessarily, I just…_ she exhales, blowing a breath upwards. _I just can’t do this anymore. I’m so tired, Dani. I’m tired._

_Hold on_ , she says, her face desperate and much like Jamie imagines hers was.

Every night it seems like they have a conversation like that, Jamie begging Dani for something she knows she won’t give, and Dani asking her to hold on just a little bit longer.

When she gets the invitation to Flora’s wedding as Owen’s plus one, she wonders if Dream-But-Also-Possibly-Real-Dani knows things she doesn’t, but decides that’s ridiculous and chalks it up to a coincidence. She accepts the invitation, reveling in the beauty of the event, and biting back the frustration and bitterness that she and Dani never got to have one.

As she tells the story of Bly Manor to the guests, she remarks in the fact that if Flora or Miles remembered their time someday, and they went to look up all who joined them in their childhood at Bly, they would know nothing of Dani and Jamie. Not legally, at least. And they won't know that about Hannah or Owen either, she realizes. Though she knows she shouldn’t, if she adds a little bit of truth and desperation for Flora to know as they sit there and talk, she refuses to feel guilty about it.

The wedding is beautiful, of course, as is Flora. The whole thing is beautiful, and what’s more wonderful is the fact that Jamie gets to know that everybody is going to be okay.

Flora, with her new husband, and her new life, and all the years she has in her future that are free from the burdens she was so willing to carry as a child. Miles, with sheer adoration on his face as he looks on at Flora dancing with her husband, who in his own right has grown up into a man and is paving his own way.

And then Owen, of course, who has somehow found his way back into the kids’ lives, and laughs and jokes with Miles like they’re brothers. Jamie finds solace in hoping they always will be.

She looks into the bathtub that evening with a newfound peace settling inside her. Restlessness hums, as she thinks it may always will, but she’s not scared of death anymore. And she’s also not eager for it. She just accepts it.

She says as much as she cracks open the door and takes a seat in a chair facing the open door. Her shoulders slump as she lets herself relax, and just thinks, _Take me. I’m ready. Please, I'm ready. I miss you._

_I've always been here,_ she hears Dani warn. Whether it's in real life or not, she doesn't know.

_I'm ready_ , she repeats.

With two arms holding her, imaginary or not, she fades into sleep, getting what seems like a life montage of herself. All the highlights of course. Flashes of Flora and Miles, bearing childlike innocence they have never lost. Owen, cracking jokes and puns and pouring all his love into Hannah, who shines as bright in her imagination as she did in life.

With a breath, she asks Owen to forgive her. Or to at least understand why she’s left him the way Dani left her all those years ago. She hopes he finds a way to understand. And she takes comfort in knowing Flora and Miles will be there for him until he does.

The dream montage ends with a vision of Dani pressing a kiss to her forehead and whispering, “It’s you. It’s me.”

Jamie is awoken slightly by the pressure of a hand resting on her shoulder. Somehow, she knows it’s not a dream, and without turning her head, she knows it’s Dani. Jamie steps up and out of her body, leaving behind the stiffness in her joints and the ache in her heart.

Dani stands there to greet her, looking beautiful and radiant and not a day different than the last time they saw each other. As overcome with relief as Jamie is, Dani just looks scared and almost lost for words. Her hands shake as she reaches out for Jamie like she can’t believe she’s standing there, and like she almost regrets it.

Connected as they are, which maybe they will be forever, Jamie feels Dani’s heart ache in a way it never should again. She takes her trembling hands in hers, and squeezes gently. “Chin up, Poppins. It’s us.”

_It’s us._

And it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> quinnfebrey on tumblr. come chat!


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